


stubborn people get sick the most

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Crack, Gen, I'm writing this instead of sleeping, Sick Bobby, Sick Fic, Soup, the hell is this?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 05:52:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16550159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Bobby's sick and Dean and Sam attempt to help with varying degrees of success.





	stubborn people get sick the most

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a fic. This is a cry for help.
> 
>  
> 
> ***coughs up her lungs* ******
> 
>  
> 
> **  
> **i'm sick.**  
>  **
> 
>  
> 
> **  
> **Please Enjoy!****  
> 

Huh. So this is what the boys must feel when they keep dying.

 

Bobby’s barely able to think this through his headachy, stuffy nose and oh-my-God-my-throat-is-being-sanded-down state. He coughs again, wincing at how pointlessly painful it was.

 

He groans in annoyance as he hears the doorbell ring, figuring it’s either his bubbly new neighbour, Clarice or it’s the boys.

 

He lies still for a few seconds to gather himself, before there’s an unmistakable click that tells him his door has been opened.

 

“What in the hell-“

 

“Hey Bobby it’s us! Sorry for barging in, but you aren’t answering your phone..s. Everything good? Where are you?”, Dean’s voice yells up and Bobby’s glad it’s downstairs otherwise he’d murder the man simply because of volume.

 

“In here!”, is what he meant to say, but considering his current state it becomes more of a “Ihnerre”.

 

He smacks his palm against his forehead. Great going Singer.

 

The sound of footsteps travel up to his door and it’s Sam who hesitantly peaks his head through.

 

“Hey Bobby- shit you doing okay?”, the younger Winchester asks, voice thankfully low.

 

Bobby opens his mouth to answer him, but thinking against it opts to simply grudgingly shake his head with a pathetic sniff. Oh Lord, his throat’s closing up.

 

“Crap Bobby, no offence, but you look like hell. You need anything?”, Dean asks him and Bobby looks up startled.

 

When the hell had the boy turned into Batman?

 

“Don’t need anythin’ but a coupla days of rest and some whiskey.”, Bobby states simply, rubbing at his throat after. And that is exactly what he intended to do.

 

One look at Sam and Dean’s faces, however, tells him exactly what they think of that plan. Sammy even huffs out a tiny laugh.

 

“Ah, yeah, no. Bobby, let us help... please?”

 

Crap. Puppy dog eyes.

 

“No ya freaking idjits! I don’t need to be cuddled back to health!”, he exclaims, resolutely not looking in Sam’s direction.

 

Dean snorts and Bobby’s envious of a time he could do that without hacking up his insides. 

 

“What? No way we’re cuddling you Bobby, you got cooties and stuff.”, Dean says and Sam fixes his brother with a dude-seriously look. Dean just keeps grinning.

 

“Look man, let’s just start with something simple. Soup maybe?”

 

“What? No ya dum-“, he’s cut off by another coughing fit, doubling over as tears of discomfort prick at the corner of his eyes.

 

Aw hell, this is the day he dies.

 

“Welp that settles it. Sammy go put the soup on while I restrain Mister Grumpypants.”, Dean states and Sam nods, taking off like the majestic moose he is.

 

Oh no, he’s going nuts. Crap, are the walls closing in? He’s losing vision. _Oh Castiel is that you?  
___

__

___Snap out of it Singer! ____ _

____ _ _

____ _ _

____“Hokay, nice soupsies for our dearest Uncle!”, Sam’s voice trills and he hears Dean chuckle. Bobby also grins slightly._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____Fracking dorks._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____“Alright up!”, Dean exclaims and Bobby sends him a murderous stare, worthy of the constipated angel himself._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____Nevertheless he sits upright, accepting the tray set upon him. He eyes the swirling liquid and sighs._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____“How much hippie, green stuff did ya put in here?”_ _ _ _

____ _ _

____“A crap ton and you are going to eat _all of it. _”, Sam says and Bobby grunts in annoyance.___ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______“Ok this is a good time as any to go stack up on supplies!”, Dean says, jumping up from his spot._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______“Good idea.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______On the third day they almost burned the house down, which finds Bobby glaring at them, while buried underneath a goddamn mountain of fluffy blankets Dean had insisted upon._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______Right now the oldest Winchester was looking anywhere but the sickly and short old man covered in a My Little Pony blanket._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______“How the hell.. did you two knuckleheads manage to burn _oatmeal!?”  
_____ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________It’s only on what seems to be the final day of his plague that Dean hits them all with a very particular nugget of wisdom._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Shit, guys... we have an Angel.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________There is a deathly silence, broken only by Bobby slamming his head against his desk and the flapping of Cas’ wings._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Hello Dean.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/Kudos very welcome, considering I am on my deathbed.
> 
> Please point out any glaring mistakes and thanks for reeeaaading!
> 
>  
> 
> ***screams* ******


End file.
